


Ink

by hazzboolarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Client Louis, Dirty Talk, Dom Harry, Exhibitionism, Grinding, I'LL WRITE A REAL TABLE SEX SMUT SOMEDAY OK, Light Dom/sub, Loud Sex, Louis just loves to be fucked by Harry ok, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Riding, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Sub Louis, Table Sex, Tattoo artist Harry, Tattoos, Top Harry, a sad excuse for it if you ask, because they're in public but in Harry's workroom so, but 2 is plural SO, but I ended up adding a little story so, but still, it could have been a bed and it'd be the same lmao, oh yeah and, or maybe more like, or more like my attempt at because I don't know what I'm doing lmao sorry, well 2 for Louis, well Louis is, wow I forgot the most important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5330195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazzboolarry/pseuds/hazzboolarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson always wanted to get tattooed. But because his conservative father was against it, he never did. Recently, though, Louis was rebelling. He didn’t want to grow like his father, to be like him.<br/>That’s why he now was in a tattoo shop, ready to be inked by this curly, dimpled and sex-on-legged lad.</p><p>[Or, the one where Louis wants to get tattooed, Harry just-so-happen to be his tattooist, and they fuck on the table because sexual tension]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ink

**Author's Note:**

> \--
> 
> ******************************************  
> ***** PLEASE READ IT'S IMPORTANT *****  
> ******************************************
> 
> This is one of the fics I originally posted in french on beastlylove, but I decided to delete them. I thought about writing in english for a long time now and how I wanted to do/try it, so here I am, and I enjoy it so far :)  
> I'm currently translating 5 one-shots in english and editing them as well!
> 
> Now that it's said, I apologize if there's mistakes and weird phrasings! I'm still learning, but I think it's alright?
> 
> Let me know if there's anything!
> 
> \--
> 
> [Tumblr](http://www.hazzboolarry.tumblr.com)

\- - -

 

Louis Tomlinson was a promising 25 years old man, following his father’s footsteps in the family advertising company. All his life, he’s been a perfect son, much to his dad’s liking. Charismatic, intelligent, ambitious, creative… Mark Tomlinson was proud of him, and so was Louis, winning his love and trust. The Tomlinson & Co. advertising company was powerful, a family business since generations. Therefore, Louis, being the only child of Mark and Jay Tomlinson, would have to take over the company after his father. For that, he had to act like he was told. But, see, Louis wasn’t himself when he was with the man. He always had to act like a mature, bossy and powerful young men, yet, Louis was childish, laughing at everything and having too much fun partying (yeah, he also was bossy, but not the kind he was taught to). Oh, and of course, he was gay, but that was something he had to keep secret because his dad would probably die on the spot.

He’d thought about this for a long time, and had decided to do something crazy, something that would start showing his parents (but mostly his dad), that he wanted to be himself and stop acting like a daddy’s little boy manufactured since birth. Because well. He actually was someone, with a unique personality, and be loved or not by his dad, he was the only Tomlinson child to inherit the company. So.  
That something was what he long wanted to do; get tattooed. His conservative father always has been against it, stating that tattoos didn’t look serious on businessmen like them. So he had pushed this idea away. Recently, though, Louis was rebelling. He didn’t want to grow like his father, to be like him. After all, he was 25 and didn’t want to waste his life by being someone he’s not.

That’s why he now was in his car, driving to the tattoo shop Zayn had suggested him. The god-like man already had a lot of tattoos, covering the majority of his skin. He also was the reason he got an interest for tattoos. He had been there for his friend’s first tattoo, and immediately liked the vibe of a tattoo shop, drawings hung on the walls, rock music blasting just right from the stereos and the friendly ambience. The idea of getting a tattoo also was something that Louis liked; the idea of having something unique and meaningful on your body.

Louis turned right and was driving on the boulevard leading to the address Zayn had sent him, when his phone buzzed, signalling that he just received a text.

_-Zayn to Louis  
Send a picture when it’s done. Hope you’ll have taste._

Zayn is such a friend.

Louis groaned, before letting his phone fall back on the passenger seat. He would have liked to have Zayn with him for his first tattoo, but he could not come, having a date with a certain Liam or whatever. Dick. A dick friend, but friend nonetheless. Zayn was his best friend, and actually, was the only one knowing about his sexuality. It had been easy to tell him, the Pakistan being bi himself. But, even though they were pretty close, they never saw something more than best of friends between them. Anyway, they once had sex together, but it was after an end-of-school-year party, and just laughed it off because that had been way too weird. They were better at being bros than sex-partners, that’s for sure.

He turned one last time in a street, then finally stopped in front of the Ink Roses Tattoo. He parked his car, then turning off the contact, he stayed seated, looking at the small building. It was painted in blue, red hood, and the shop’s name was flashing in the nearly dark exterior on the sign, roses twirling around the letters. Louis hummed, and shrugging, he got off his car.

When he stepped in the shop, the first thing he saw was that blond, young lad sitting at the front desk. He was on the computer, probably filling schedules or somewhat. Louis saw right away, not because he was strange and intimidating, but the opposite. This young man had no tattoos, no piercings, only a big wide grin plastered on his face. He looked up when the door behind Louis closed with a loud ding from a bell hung above the door.

“Hello there!” He shouted, as Louis was walking up to the desk, smiling.

“Hi”

He putted some papers away, clearing the desk a little, before turning back to Louis.

“Had an appointment?”

“Eh, no, not really,” Louis said, picking on the Irish accent of the blond lad. “I kinda just decided to get tattooed like, yesterday.”

“Right,” he laughed, “let me look up at the schedule and see if someone’s free.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Louis replied, watching him clicking and taping on the keyboard. He looked around him, while waiting, admiring the posters and drawings, until the Irish voice caught his attention back.

“Ok, so I have someone free right now,” he said, the brunette turning back to him. “You already know what you want, or you wanted a little time to look at some in catalogues?”

“An Idea, but not decided yet, really,” Louis said, shrugging.

The blond nodded, still smiling, then turned to grab some books on a shelf, handing them to Louis when he got back to the desk.

“There. Just tell me when you’re ready!”

Louis smiled back immediately, taking the books and saying a ‘thank you, Blondie’.

“Name’s Niall, by the way!” He shouted, cackling, while the other was balancing the catalogues in his arms.

“Louis,” He replied, shaking the blonde’s hand. “You know it’s weird, you working here, without tattoos or anything?”

Niall laughed loudly, Louis smiling at the sound. It was just so contagious.

“Yeah I know,” he shrugged, a smile still on his lips. “But hey, I was in need of a job and my best friend is the owner of the shop, so. Just took advantage of the situation. Oh, and actually, he’s the one who’s gonna tattoo you. His name’s Harry Styles. Nice lad.”

“Great then,” Louis nodded, glancing at the books he was still holding. “Gonna go look through these now, don’t want to make him wait.”

He nodded back, waving a hand. “Take your time! You’re the last client of the day, anyway, and Harry won’t mind waiting.”

Louis replied with an ‘okay’, before walking towards the couch on the other side of the room, sitting so he can browse the catalogues. He first let his eyes linger around him, looking at the layout of the room. It looked like a traditional tattoo shop, with the posters and all, but there was something home-y too. There were some plants here and there, pictures of all kinds, and humorous things like that plastic skeleton on a real-life motorcycle near the front window. ‘Cause yeah, why not.

He finally looked back to the catalogues, flipping pages. There was a lot. Louis didn’t want a big, gore-y thing though, so he put these books away, looking at the more simple ones. He was drawn out of his search when he heard Niall’s voice, speaking to another person.

“Styles! You have one more client, he just booked in. And I’m leaving soon with the others, so you’ll close the shop.”

Louis tried to look at the person Niall was speaking to, but he couldn’t see him. He would have like to see, knowing that this Styles was going to tattoo him. You know, just have a look on the one who was going to scratch him permanently with ink.

“When were you planning on telling me, Niall?” A deep voice said, a smile that could be heard under the exasperate tone. “I was ready to leave.”

“Well, I’m telling you now, see?” Niall replied, grinning. Louis heard the other one breathing out a laugh, then footsteps walking away.

Okay, so that deep, rusty voice was just a little bit scaring Louis. Not that he was chicken-hearted or anything, but let’s say he was, like, protective of his life and security. And being alone with a big, bulky and bearded tattooed biker at night wasn’t his idea of cosiness. But. If he was best friend with that blond leprechaun over there, maybe he wasn’t that terrible. Well, he hoped so.

When he finally found the perfect chest piece tattoo, he quickly snapped a picture to send Zayn, then got up, walking up to the desk and handing back the catalogues to Niall. The latter told him which room Harry was, and with a last ‘goodbye’, walked to the door. He waited a few more seconds, then finally knocked, ignoring his mild stress.

“Come in!” The deep voice shouted.

Louis slowly opened the door, shutting it behind him, and when he turned back, he froze. Okay first, it wasn’t a big, bulky and bearded tattooed biker. Oh no. More like a tall, fit and curly tattooed boy. His back was turned to Louis, but he could see that he probably was the same age as Niall, so, his age as well. When the boy turned to face him, though, he just stared at those emerald eyes, piercing into his.

Fuck. Okay. He was stunning.

“So, first tattoo?” Harry asked, smiling and instantly drawing Louis’ attention to his dimples. Good God.

No, he wasn’t scared anymore. But now, he was nervous, completely charmed by this boy with his dimples, wide green eyes and those pink, inviting lips. Louis caught himself staring, quickly looking away and feeling his cheeks burning.

Great.

He walked towards him, who was leaning on his desk, then showed him the picture of the tattoo he took on his phone.

“Uh, yeah. I’d like this one.”

Harry took the phone in his (large) hand, looking at the calligraphy It Is What It Is. He let out a little laugh, handing the phone back to Louis, hands touching. He shivered at the contact, wondering if the boy did it on purpose.

“It goes with the butterfly, on the picture. I got it tattooed on my torso. You want to see?”

Louis opened his mouth, gaping at air, eyes locked with Harry’s. Was he asking him if he wanted to see his chest? Cool. Stay cool.

“Yeah!” He nearly shouted. Maybe that was a little bit too hasty.

“I mean… yeah, you can show me. If you want.”

Curly looked at him for a short moment, a smile stretching his pink lips. He then lifted his shirt, revealing a firm torso, fern tattoo on each hips and a huge butterfly in the middle of his chest.

“It’s been, like, a year and a half.”

It took everything in Louis to stop staring at the happy trail disappearing under Harry’s tight black skinnies, raising his head back to him.

“You’re really not what I was expecting,” Louis admitted, pouting in his head when Harry pulled his shirt back down.

“What were you expecting?” He asked, eyes curious.

Louis shrugged, suddenly feeling stupid. “I don’t know. Hearing your voice, I thought you were a scary biker wearing leather, skin covered with skull tattoos and piercings.”

Harry laughed loudly, dimples full on display, making Louis smile and shiver. He was so fucked. He then sat on a chair, pens and papers ready, before looking back up to him, grinning.

“Actually, I do bike a motorcycle, and I have a skull tattoo,” Harry said, lifting and twisting his left arm so he can show the tattoo: a skeleton wearing a hat. “But, I don’t have any piercings. And for the leather… well, we’ll have to be in a more private place so I can show you.

Louis felt his face burning, turning red. He slipped a hand in his hair, scratching lightly, and avoiding the emerald gaze on him. He didn’t know what to say aside of ‘show me and fuck me please’, so he was relieved when the curly lad quickly spoke again.

“Sorry, I-- uh… that was… just forget I said that,” he nervously laughed, looking down at his little desk and taking a pen and a tracing paper. “Where do you want your tattoo?”

Green eyes back on him, Louis couldn’t let a word out, still feeling a little flush on his cheeks. So he pointed to his collarbones, smiling.

“Perfect. You can take off your shirt,” Harry said, the burning sensation making his way back on Louis’ face. Yeah. Well. Obviously he needs to be shirtless for this tattoo. That’s normal.

So he took his shirt off, choosing to ignore the quick glances that Harry was giving him. He left his shirt on the desk, then sat on the padded table, waiting.

“I just need to trace the letters, this won’t be too long,” Harry said, drawing the calligraphy words.

“Yeah, no problem,” Louis said back, his voice cracking. But, hey, it was the best he could do, trying to stay calm and certainly not thinking about Harry wearing leather.

“Oh, we didn’t properly introduced ourselves I think,” Curly continued, glancing up to Louis before turning his focus back to the drawing. “I’m Harry.”

“I know,” the brunette replied, wincing at his words. He sounded like a creep.

“I mean, you know, Niall told me,” he explained, glad that Harry didn’t look like he was surprised or disturbed or anything.

“Well,” he smiled, looking back to Louis. “He didn’t tell me yours. So…?”

“Louis. Tomlinson.”

“Oh!” Harry exclaimed, wide eyed with recognition. “Tomlinson, like, Tomlinson & Co.?”

“Yeah,” Louis replied, letting out a small sigh.

“Don’t look too excited, jeez.” Harry laughed lightly, eyebrows raised a little.

Louis scoffed, opening his mouth to say something but not quite finding the right words.

“It’s… complicated.” He started, looking at the nearly finished tracing of his tattoo that Harry was working on. “Let’s just say that I would completely love this, if I didn’t have to change who I am to please my father.”

“Hm…” Harry hummed, nodding slowly his head in understandment. “I never tried to be liked by my dad. Anyway, it already was shit when I said that I was gay, so.”

Louis offered a sorry smile, trying to ignore the fact that Harry just came out to him. Well. Okay. Why not say it, too? Nothing to lose.

“My parents don’t know that I am. Only my friend, Zayn. But I’m getting tired of hiding and lying, so. It is what it is, uh?”

Harry chuckled, smiling softly at Louis. “Hope it’ll turn out alright, then.”

The latter smiled, touched by the serious tone of the curly lad.

“Thanks,” He said, barely a whisper.

The room fell into a comfortable silence after that, Louis looking around him, waiting for the tracing to be done. A few minutes later, Harry stood from his chair, tracing paper in hand.

“Tracing is done,” He started, waiting for Louis’ approval when he showed him the calligraphy words. When the brunette nodded, saying a ‘perfect’, he turned around to pick some liquids so he can stamp it on Louis’ skin.

“Ok, so you can lie down,” He continued, Louis already lying on his back and resting his head on the little pillow.

Louis watched Harry leaning over him, placing the tracing paper at the right place. Their faces were close, and, being the most discreet person, he let his eyes linger on Harry’s features, but mostly, on those pink lips. He wanted to touch and to taste so badly. But instead, he just closed his eyes, trying to think about something else. Because right now, it wasn’t the time to think about pink lips around him while the guy in question was right there.

Harry finally sat down on his chair, close to Louis, then rested his right arm on his torso, tattoo gun in hand.

“Good, we can start now,” he said, smiling down at Louis. “It won’t be long. These kinds of tattoos take, like, 45 minutes if everything’s alright.”

“Okay,” Louis smiled back. “I trust you.”

His words have drawn a wide, dimpled smile to Harry, whom whispered an ‘alright, let’s go’, before starting to tattoo.

The pain wasn’t unbearable, but not quite pleasant either. Louis couldn’t keep his grimaces to himself when there were painful spots, but it was earning him chuckles from Harry, which. Okay.

“Tell me about you, Louis,” Harry said, breaking the silence.

Louis frowned, looking at the other’s concentrated face. “I’ve already told--”

“No, no, like… tell me about you. What do you like, and all.”

“Oh! Uh… okay,” he said, still looking at Harry’s face. He squeezed his eyes shut, though, trying to keep control over the pain from the tattoo.

“I like football. I play since I was a child, so--”

He suddenly stopped talking, feeling Harry’s hand squeezing one of his thighs. He opened an eye, glancing curiously at him, whom was smirking.

“Sorry,” he said, not sorry at all. “I wanted to see if your legs was as muscular as I thought.”

Louis, his face heating, just started laughing. Noticing a faint blush on Harry’s cheeks, he decided to play the game.

“So?” He replied, raising his eyebrows. “D’you like them?”

Harry stopped tattooing for a moment, looking back to Louis. “I’m not disappointed. But I wish you’d be lying on your front, so I could have squeezed your ass instead.” He smirked, winking at the last part.

Louis’ eyes widened, his mouth gaping a little. Yeah, fuck off, he wasn’t going to win this game. He already was so gone for this boy, anyway. So he scoffed, acting as he wasn’t affected by his words (but he was and Louis couldn’t hide that for shit).

“Tattoo,” he said, eyes closed, and he heard Harry laughing before the pain of the tattoo gun was back.

Louis could have tried to forget the proximity between them, but, eventually, Harry’s free hand had found his place on his torso, brushing lightly the skin there. He couldn’t tell if it was accidental or not, but instead of throwing a teasing question about it, he choses to bite his bottom lip, hoping to keep his moans in his throat.

Of course, minutes later, Louis concluded that yes, the tattooist knew what he was doing. Because seriously, hovering his hand on Louis’ body (hand, which was gliding lower minutes after minutes), was unnecessary. And hard to ignore. So he cleared his throat, trying not to look like he was about to moan out loud.

“Not too painful?” Harry asked, hand still ghosting over his tummy.

Louis shivered at the voice, only able to reply a ‘mhm’, which sounded more like a whimper. That hand just really was distracting, okay.

It remained silent a couple more minutes, before Louis decided to continue the conversation. He had to stop thinking about that fucking hand.

“I… uh… I l-love music. Sometimes I sing.”

Good.

“Really? I’d like to hear you. Any sounds.”

Not good.

Fuck.

This won’t help.

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Harry stopped tattooing. The Hand froze too, before completely removing itself from his torso. Louis opened his eyes, gaze landing on Harry’s flushed face.

“Sorry… again,” he sheepishly said, looking down with a little frown. “I should stop thinking out loud.”

Louis surprised himself and burst out laughing, feeling a flush of his own on his cheeks.

“Yeah, you should stop,” he laughed. “Or else, I won’t be able to keep calm on that table.”

Harry glanced up to Louis, whom was now biting at his bottom lip. A little smirk formed on Harry’s, keeping his gaze locked on Louis’, both silent. He’s been the first to break the contact, getting up of his chair, looking like he was thinking about something. For a moment, Louis feared that he had made a mistake, admitting he was turned on by his words. But Harry glanced back at him, smirking, and his worry quickly disappeared.

“Would you mind if I settle another way?” he started, his smirk widening. “This chair isn’t really comfortable.”

Louis shrugged, still looking at green, emerald eyes.

“You’re the tattooist.”

The latter nodded, and the second after, he was straddling Louis’ hips, on the table. Louis could feel his dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans, already half-hard for a few minutes now, and the pressure of Harry sit on it made him groan instantly. He then leaned closer to Louis’ face, eyes locked on his, and grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling lightly. Louis moaned, squirming a little. He wanted so much more, anything, but Harry straightened up and grabbed his tattoo gun, attention back on the tattoo.

Louis was biting his bottom lip, pain long forgotten. No, he couldn’t feel the pain from the tattoo gun. Instead, he could feel his throbbing cock, begging to be released from the tight jeans. He was keeping himself from moaning or thrusting his hips up, and Harry could see his struggles, because he smirked and tightened his grip on his hips, Louis groaning at the pressure. He squirmed under Harry’s body, trying to get more friction, but the tattooist pushed his shoulder with his free hand, stopping his movements.

“Don’t move,” Harry said in a deep voice. “It’s not finished.”

Louis knew his eyes were dark from desire, doing everything to not press the other’s body on his.

“Soon?” He let out, not surprised of his husky voice. He was consumed by desire and frustration of immobility, and Harry probably noticed it, because he leaned over, his mouth right next to his ear.

“Yes,” He murmured, hot breath sending a shiver down Louis’ spine. “After, you can move as much as you like. Be patient for me…”

Louis quickly nodded, moaning when he felt Harry’s wet tongue lick behind his ear, then sucking at his neck, leaving a mark.

For the 30 next minutes, Louis was on the verge of hysteria. Maybe hysteria was too intense, he conceded, but he was hard for half an hour now, and it was unbearable. The worst (or best, Louis couldn’t decide), was that Harry purposely did everything to excite him as much as possible, such as pressing his chest on Louis’, The Hand making a come back, or grinding just enough on his hips so Louis’ head was spinning.

When Harry finally finished the tattoo, he cleaned it, and taped a white tissue on it. Louis watched him as he got off him and the table, putting away his equipment. He still was on his back, watching every move from the tattooist, and when the latter turned back to him, eyes as dark as his, he felt like crying because of the lack of physical contact. Thankfully it didn’t get there, Harry getting back on Louis’ hips, his hands caressing the skin of his chest, thumbs grazing over his nipples. He moaned at the sensation, Harry’s mouth now ghosting over his right ear, a hand gripping at his hair.

“So, Louis,” he murmured, hot breath making Louis shudder with anticipation, his fist clenching and unclenching beside him. His throat was dry, and he knew that his voice would be husky, craving. He opened his mouth anyway, saying this only word with desire, lust and supplication.

“Harry…”

The hand in his hair pulled softly, Louis whimpering. Harry sucked another lovebite on his neck, then pulled back, locking gaze with Louis’. Only a thin green line was visible in his eyes, and Louis knew his own probably was the same.

“What do you want?” Harry barely whispered.

What does he want? Oh God. Anything. Louis wanted anything and everything. He wanted hands on his body, lips on him and around him, him in Harry, Harry in him, whatever. Something. But looking at those pink wet lips, right there, he knew exactly what he wanted first, what he wanted since the beginning.

“Kiss me.”

Harry didn’t wait any longer, surging forward and attaching his lips to Louis’ in a heating kiss. They were licking in each other’s mouth, only breaking the kiss for a second when they needed to breath. Harry’s hand was everywhere; in Louis’ soft hair, his neck, his reddened cheeks, his shoulders, his chest -careful not to touch the tattoo- and his arms, still on Louis’ sides. The latter hadn’t move yet, wanting to obey to Harry’s request earlier, which was to not move. Normally, Louis liked to be dominant during sex, liked to have control over everything. But right now, it was the opposite. He wanted Harry to do whatever he wanted with his body, anything.

A few minutes later, Harry broke the kiss so he could nip at Louis’ jaw, before sucking and biting his neck. When he looked back at his eyes, his gaze was asking the same question; what do you want.

“Anything, anything, just-- just anything, please…” he stumbled over his words, begging.

No, he wasn’t the kind to submit and beg to be fucked. But how else was he supposed to act in front of this man? He was his literal pictured-guy-for-wank fantasy. And those sparkling green eyes were a bonus. And maybe those curls. And dimples. And red bitten lips. And the little pink flush on his cheeks. And his smell. Okay. He was way better.

Harry smirked at the begging, and then gave a last and quick kiss on Louis’ mouth, before moving lower and dropping kisses on his belly, right beside his waistband. Louis’ breathing was short, his hips moving a little under Harry’s lips. The latter finally started to tug his jeans down, moving back so he could completely take it off with his boxers. The brunette was now naked, exposed, but the tattooist still was fully clothed, which. Unfair. Louis wanted to see that firm torso again, the not-seen-yet tattoos, and those long legs hidden under the black skinny jeans.

“Your clothes,” he pouted, frowning a little.

Harry then tugged his shirt off, getting up from the table so he can remove his jeans and boxers, Louis instantly whining at the loss of heat on his body. Naked, Harry got back on the table, hence on Louis, and kissed his chest and tummy again, making the whining stop.

“You’re impatient,” he chuckled, smiling on the warm skin.

Louis snorted, looking up to the ceiling. “I remind you that I’m waiting for this since I--”

He didn’t get to finish what he was saying, because warm lips wrapped around him, a loud moan escaping his. Harry’s mouth already was working on his length, tongue swirling at the top, leaving no chance for Louis’ eyes to stay opened. Eyes pressed shut, head tilted back; his hands crept to the curly head so he can grab a handful of his hair. They were as soft as he had imagined.

Harry moaned at the pull, sending vibrations on Louis’ shaft. The latter strengthened his grip at the sensation, guiding lightly Harry’s head. He could feel himself going deeper and deeper into the warm, wet heat, until it hit the back of Harry’s throat, his nose pressing against Louis’ pubes.

Fuck.

A few more seconds, and Louis felt his orgasm building up, whimpers bubbling out of his mouth. Harry’s grip at his thighs was keeping his hips still, but he still could move a little, squirming under the other’s body.

“H-Harry I’m gonna-- I--” He stuttered out, but Harry didn’t stop, keeping his pace. Louis hardly opened his eyes to look at him, and it’s at the sight of red lips sinking on him that he came, moaning loudly and hand pulling at his grip. He didn’t know if there still was someone in the shop, if Niall heard, but Louis found himself not caring. If anything, it was kind of exciting.

His gaze still was locked on Harry when the latter swallowed, before letting Louis’ cock slide out of his mouth. He let a trail of kisses on Louis’ chest up towards his neck, licking from there up to the back of his ear. He had no idea how sensitive this part was until the past hour.

“So beautiful,” Harry let out in a rusty voice, worn by the deep throating.

His head still was at the juncture of Louis’ neck and shoulder, body pressed to his and hands caressing skin, while Louis’ was coming down from his high. Even though he just had come, though, the want was still there. He still wanted more, not sated yet. So he let his hands roam over Harry’s back, feeling the still-hard cock of the latter dig into his hip, and growled a little, spreading his leg so he could wrap them around Harry’s hips. Harry laughed a little at the sight of the other’s frustration, but took a short in-breath of air when their cock brushed together, his own begging for attention.

“I want more,” murmured Louis, pushing his hips up so he can create friction between them.

Harry moaned at that, his hands tightening at Louis’ waist before letting go, standing so he could reach his backpack on his desk. He grabbed a condom and a little pack of lube, then got back on Louis, resuming his position between his legs.

“Me or--”

Oh how Louis already knew the answer to that.

“You, you, you, just-- come on,” he replied, his hips seeking friction with the body on top of him. “I want you.”

Harry let his forehead fall on Louis’, growling lowly and whispering a little ‘yeah, ok, yeah’. He kissed Louis one more time, nibbling at his bottom lip, then got on his knees, legs still wrapped around his hips. He opened the little package and got some on his fingers, before settling back on Louis.

The latter shuddered at the cold contact of Harry’s fingers circling over his hole, his hands tightening his grip on the other’s shoulders. He soon started to move his hips, impatient to get something in him.

“Harry, I swear to--”

Louis suddenly gasped, feeling a long finger slip into him. It’s been a long time since he bottomed (or just had full sex, actually) and he knew he probably was tight. Well, no, he knew he was, because Harry kissed at his neck, not moving right away.

“I’ll go slow,” Harry said, head lodged on the side of Louis’ neck. His free hand slipped lower on his waist, and slowly, he started working his other hand, rubbing at Louis’ walls.

Louis whimpered softly at the feeling, and soon enough, a second finger joined the first one. He still wanted more after a few minutes, though, and started moving his hips with the movements.

“One m-more, Harry…” he whimpered, and the other obliged, smiling on Louis’ neck which was now sporting five hickeys, dark spots on golden skin.

Louis let out a loud moan when the third finger entered him, fingers now rubbing right on his prostate, and he immediately bit at his lips so he could keep quiet. Harry wasn’t okay with it though, kissing from his neck to his mouth, moving his hand a little faster.

“Don’t keep your pretty noises for yourself,” he said, small pout on his face. And if long fingers hitting at his spot with every thrust hadn’t overwhelmed Louis, he would have laughed.

“Still-- p-people?” He asked between groans. Harry shook his head, still kissing at Louis’ jaw and side of his head.

“Should be gone by now,” he shrugged. “Don’t act like it doesn’t excite you, Louis.”

Right. Okay. Maybe like, a little.

So he stopped biting at his lips, letting his moans and groans escape out of his mouth. He was loud, but being heard or not, fuck that. It was too good to care.

He was now riding Harry’s fingers, and it was nothing close to be enough.

“Just fuck me already,” he snapped, frustrated. “I’m ready, just-- get in me.”

He could feel Harry laughing in his neck, which. Fucking tease.

“You’re gagging for my cock,” Harry murmured in Louis’ ear, and it wasn’t a question. Louis groaned, trying to reach at Harry or himself or something, but Harry pinned his hands on the table, stopping him and making him whimper at the loss of fingers in him. “Say it, Louis.”

He groaned again, feeling tears tickling behind his eyes because Harry’s hips weren’t touching his anymore, and the lack of contact on his hard dick and the emptiness of his arsehole were too much.

“Y-Yes, I-- I’m gagging for it,” he sobbed. “Please, Harry, I--”

“Hey, hey, shh…” Harry whispered, thumbs circling over his wrists. “It’s alright, I got you.”

He kissed him softly and then let go of his hands, backing off and sitting on his heels so he can open the condom and put it on his hard, leaking cock. He poured the rest of the lube package in his hand, before stroking quickly on his length, a groan slipping out of his red bitten lips. Louis was watching him, hands still on both sides of his head. He was admiring the other’s torso, dark tattoos on milky skin. He wouldn’t mind seeing it everyday for the rest of his life.

Harry laid back on him, settling between his legs, and Louis gasped when he felt the tip of Harry’s cock pushing in, his hands flying to get a grip at the other’s back.

“F-Fuck--” he breathed, eyes squeezing shut. He’s big.

Harry was soothing a hand over his side, whispering sweet nothings unto his neck, until he felt Louis relax. He then started to push into the warm and tight heat, bottoming out, then stopped moving so he can let Louis adjust around him.

“Tell me when you’re good,” he murmured, hot breath hitting Louis’ neck and ear.

Louis slipped a hand in Harry’s curls, tugging gently and scratching lightly at his scalp, while the other’s hands found their way on his waist, caressing the skin. Louis’ legs were wrapped around Harry’s hips, their chest pressed together, and. Well. He really liked that. He liked this feeling of being cared of and protected. He liked the heat of Harry’s body on his own. He liked being anchored like this, like he belonged to him.

For a moment, Louis thought about the fact that this probably was the last time they’d see each other, that it only was a one-time thing, a one-night stand. But, he immediately chased that thought away, not wanting to deal with the aftermath right now. He wanted to enjoy this moment, the feelings he could sense all over his body.

Thus, he moved his hips a little to show that he was ready, the other moaning at the stir.

“Go,” he barely whispered, moaning at Harry’s first slow thrust that followed his word.

Harry then moved his hips in circles, looking for Louis’ prostate, and when the latter moaned a loud ‘Harry’, he thrust hard at the same place, quickening his pace. He was hitting Louis’ spot with each thrust, making him scream and scratch at Harry’s back, leaving red marks there.

“Fuck fuck f-fuck,” Louis was chanting, urging his hips downwards to meet Harry’s with each movement. The latter tightened his grip on the brunette’s waist, which probably was going to leave blue fingerprints on his skin. Good, Louis thought.

“Faster?” Harry growled on his mouth, biting briefly at his bottom lip. “Wanna feel me tomorrow, yeah?”

Louis moaned at that, clawing harder at Harry’s back. He never thought dirty talk and being dominated would turn him that much on. But hey, everything coming from Harry seemed better than from anyone else. He just always wanted more and more.

“Ye-- shit-- Y-Yeah,” he whimpered, his breath short and loud, like Harry’s.

Sweat was forming on their skin, hips slamming against each other, and Louis could see stars due to repetitive hits on his prostate. Heat spread through his belly, warning him that his second orgasm was coming. Only two or three more seconds, really, but Harry suddenly pulled out of Louis, making the latter groan and open his eyes in confusion.

“W-What--”

Harry’s mouth cut his words out, tongue instantly licking into him, before feeling wet lips ghosting over his ear.

“If you want to come,” he whispered, breathless, “you got to work for it.”

He then maneuvered himself so that he’s lying on his back, dragging Louis on top of him, the latter now straddling Harry by the hips. Louis quickly understood what Harry wanted, positioning himself above Harry’s cock and guiding it back on his abused rim. Both moaned loudly at the regained sensation when Louis quickly sank on it, Harry’s back arching on the table and hand gripping at the other’s hips. Louis settled his hands behind him on Harry’s thighs, then started riding him, moaning at how perfect the angle was.

He bounced on Harry’s cock for a few minutes, seeking the heat back in his tummy. Harry had straightened up his back, hands now on his waist, and was sucking and biting at his nipples, making him gasp and whimper at the delicious pain. Louis’ pace was slowing down after a few minutes, though, thighs trembling with exhaustion and effort. Harry then lay back on the table, strongly gripping at Louis’ hips, and started pushing his own up. Louis brought his hands in front of him, taking support on the chest under him so he wouldn’t fall. They moaned as the speed got back, and soon enough, Louis knew he was going to come in a few seconds.

“Soon?” Harry asked, thrusts getting sloppier by the minutes and gaze drowning in lust.

Louis couldn’t form any words, head spinning and overwhelmed, so he quickly nodded his head, eyes shut and mouth opened in pleasure. It’s when he felt a large hand wrap around his shaft, rapidly jerking him off, that he came for the second time, moaning loudly and screaming Harry’s name.

He opened his eyes, watching Harry’s hand working him through his orgasm, his come covering his fingers and the firm torso underneath him, while Harry still was thrusting up, chasing his own orgasm. Louis then grabbed Harry’s come-covered hand, bringing it to his mouth, and started licking and sucking his come off of Harry’s fingers. Harry suddenly screamed Louis’ name, hips jittering and coming in the condom, eyes locked on Louis.

When his thrusts slowed to a stop, Louis let himself fall on the other’s sweaty chest, nestling his head under Harry’s and nosing at his neck, Harry’s arms wrapping around his body. He still had Harry in him, but they were too exhausted to move right now. So they stayed like this for a few more minutes, slowly getting back from their high, wrapped around each other. Harry then softly pulled out of Louis, moving him to the side, but they stayed on their back, legs intertwined and Louis’ head settled on Harry’s shoulder. The brunette quietly looked up, searching green eyes that instantly locked with his. They stared at each other for a while, silently, neither of them daring to say something.

Harry is the one who did the first move, straightening up and getting off the table. He took off the condom and tied it up before throwing it in the trash can, then started picking up his clothes from the floor, putting them back on. Louis straightened too, ignoring the slight pang in his chest, and started picking up his own, frowning a little.

Because, of course, he knew all of this was nothing. It was just two guys being too horny and having it for a night. But. Louis didn’t want to believe that. One thing for sure, he didn’t want to walk off and forget. Maybe he just knew him for two hours, but still. He had his dick in his ass barely five minutes ago, it wasn’t like they didn’t share anything, right? Right.

Harry was putting his shirt back on when Louis breathed in, opening his mouth to let his thoughts out.

“We-- uh…” he started, not really knowing what he wanted to say. But it was too late to keep shut though, Harry turning back to him, eyebrows raised slightly, waiting for Louis to continue. So he did.

“I just… Will we see each other again? I mean, I don’t know if you do this often, like, having sex with clients, uh…” he paused, darting his eyes elsewhere, not wanting to look at Harry’s face if the latter was going to laugh at him because the fuck you think this could mean more. “I don’t want to leave and forget.”

There. It’s said.

He waited for the laugher about him being that clingy guy, but nothing came, except for footsteps in his direction and a finger lifting his head by his shin, eyes landing on Harry’s.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you back, Lou?” He asked, frowning.

“Well,” he shrugged, nibbling a little at his bottom lip. “I don’t know, maybe it wasn’t the first time you did this, and I didn’t want to feel like an other trophy or something, I guess.”

Harry simply smiled, slowly approaching his head from Louis’, before tenderly kiss him.

“First,” he started, hot breath on Louis’ lips, “I never did this with a client. Second,” he paused, backing a little so he could lock his gaze with Louis’, staring at his blue wide eyes. “I’m genuinely interested in you. Third, sex was so good that I need to keep you around.”

Louis snorted at that, rolling his eyes but not able to suppress the smile forming on his thin lips. Harry laughed quietly, before taking Louis’ hands in his, drawing his attention back on him.

“But, I know, our first meeting is quite… unhabitual.” Louis snorted again, but Harry continued. “But I want to do it right with you. Because I don’t want to leave and forget either.”

They stared at each other for a while, smiling slowly, until Harry talked again, widening his grin.

“So? Time for dinner tomorrow night?”

Louis let out a laugh, happy to know that Harry didn’t want to forget either. That they both wanted to start building something between them.

“Anytime,” he replied, smiling, before turning it into a smirk. “But one thing…”

Harry raised an eyebrow, smiling a little and waiting.

“I don’t fuck on the first date.”

Harry burst out laughing.

\- - -

 

Two months later, Louis Tomlinson was walking into the Ink Roses Tattoo shop. No, it wasn’t for his second tattoo, but for his eighth one, all matching with his boyfriend’s.

And no, at the sight of Harry’s lit face when he saw him enter the shop, he wouldn’t change anything from their story.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and/or comments would be really appreciated if you liked it!
> 
> Thanks for reading x
> 
> \--
> 
> [Tumblr](http://www.hazzboolarry.tumblr.com)


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